


You're Like Coming Home

by laurathenerd



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M, Fluff, High School, Quincy Fisher/Maggie Baptiste hinted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurathenerd/pseuds/laurathenerd
Summary: Kirsten and Cameron are teachers at Les Turner High School, and everyone (including their students) know about their constant flirting. So what happens when they get volunteered to work the homecoming dance?





	You're Like Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Chloe (@blush-and-books) on tumblr as part of Stitchers Secret Santa 2018. Prompt by Chloe! Hope you enjoy it!

Kirsten smoothed out her light pink blouse, took one last glance in the mirror and walked to the front door of her house. She glanced around, but she was alone. “Camille?” She called. No response. Kirsten peeked her head into Camille’s bedroom where she found Camille passed out on the bed, still in the previous night’s clothes.

Kirsten flipped on the lightswitch and nearly shouted, “Camille!”

Camille startled. “I’m awake! Geez!”

“We’re late.” Kirsten stated matter-of-factly.

“Give me five minutes!” Camille hopped out of bed, and exactly five minutes later she emerged with fresh makeup, her hair pulled back in a twist, and a fresh shirt. Kirsten raised her eyebrows and gave a slight nod of approval.

 

The drive to Les Turner High School from their house wasn’t long, but Camille always felt the need to fill those few minute with noise. Unfortunately for Kirsten, this morning Camille’s fixation was on her instead of the newest Ariana Grande single.

“All I’m saying is lately you’ve taken an interest in being  _ early _ . Every. Single Day. Part o the reason I wanted to be your roommate is because you’re as bad at time management as me,” Camille talked, gesturing with one hand while she drove with the other. 

“I think it’s important to set a good example for our students with the new school year,” Kirsten answered.

“Okay. Keep telling yourself that.” 

 

Once inside the school, Kirsten made a beeline for the teacher’s lounge with Camille in tow. Kirsten grabbed a paper cup and filled it with steaming coffee. She took a sip, scrunched up her face and began pouring sugar into the cup. A figure stepped up beside them, thermos in hand. 

“Well if it isn't Mr. Lookin’ Goodkin himself,” Camille deadpanned.

“Will you please drop it?” Cameron begged.

“We’ll never not say it,” Kirsten said joining in. “Honestly, I can’t believe a group of students beat us to that nickname.” 

“It’s not even that clever,” Cameron said.

“Or accurate,” Kirsten shoved Cameron playfully.

Cameron said, “You wound me, right in my sensitive heart.”

“Oh please. You had that surgery over fifteen years ago,” Kirsten said, adding more sugar to her cup. 

“Aw how sweet,” Camille wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“It’s actually quite bitter,” Kirsten said, eyes trained on her cup.

“You’re playing dumb? Cute. Now move, Mama needs her energy juice.” Camille pushed between Cameron and Kirsten.

Cameron’s cheeks reddened, and he glanced over Camille’s head to Kirsten, who had finally looked up. They watched each other silently for a minute before Cameron finally headed towards the door while saying, “You coming, Stretch?” 

“Now who’s using nicknames?” Kirsten asked, following him into the hallway.

“It’s a term of endearment. You and Camille were making fun of me. They’re completely different.”

“Right. Of course.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know you are.”

As they rounded the corner to the Math and Science hall, kids suddenly filled the hallways and the noise level increased exponentially. 

One of the students called out over the noise, “Hi, Mr. Goodkin! Hey, Ms. Clark!” 

“Hi, Damon,” Cameron said with a nod towards the boy. The girls standing near him waggled their eyebrows suggestively. 

“Nope. Don’t do that,” Cameron said as he passed by, which caused the kids to giggle. They reached Kirsten and Cameron’s classrooms, which were located right next to each other. 

“Lunch at Jade’s?” Kirsten asked. 

“I’m in,” Cameron answered. 

“I’ll come too,” Camille said, reaching her classroom across the hall from Kirsten’s. 

Linus came out of his classroom and said, “I’ll be there. What are we talking about?”

“Lunch. At Jade’s,” Camille filled him in.

“Apparently it’s the more the merrier today,” said Cameron. 

“Is that a problem, Cameron?” Camille asked, her smile mischievous and a little less than friendly.

“No, not at all.”

_ RIIINNNNGGGG.  _ The morning bell sounded as the last few students scurried into their respective classrooms. 

 

Lunch at Jade’s that afternoon quickly became routine for Kirsten, Cameron, Camille, and Linus, often with Tim the physics teacher, Ayo the health teacher, Chelsea the English teacher, and Alex the art teacher joining them. Occasionally the football coach and part-time history teacher, Coach Quincy Fisher would join them, but he usually took his lunch with Principal Baptiste. As the semester wore on and teachers got behind on grading and involved with extracurricular activities, the group dwindled; however, Kirsten and Cameron always ate lunch together. It was likely due to this and their constant banter between classes that caught their students’ attention. 

 

Several students sat in the back row of desks whispering and muffling giggles.

“Kyle, Emma, and Sally. Would you like to share with the class what’s so funny back there?” Kirsten asked. That shut them up. 

Kyle and Sally remained quiet, but Emma said, “We’re taking bets on when you and Mr. Goodkin will finally get together.” Kyle’s eyes bugged out of his head. The rest of the class snickered. 

“I want in on that bet!” Allison called from the front of the room. 

“Guys, there is nothing going on between Mr. Goodkin and me. Most of the time, he’s just annoying,” Kirsten said.

“Annoyingly charming!” One of the students chimed.

Kirsten’s cheeks flushed, and she sighed in frustration while her students burst into laughter. “Okay, okay. Calm down. Now let’s get back to derivatives. Can anyone tell me what a derivative does?”

At lunch that afternoon, Kirsten broached the subject of the bet.

“My students talk about it all the time, too,” Cameron admitted. 

“It’s completely ridiculous,” Kirsten said, grabbing a pot sticker off Cameron’s plate and stuffing the whole thing in her mouth. 

“Oh, yes. Completely ridiculous,” Camille said, voice dripping with sarcasm. This was one of the rare fall days where Camille and Linus had been able to join them at Jade’s. 

“Well it is,” Kirsten said defensively. 

“For being the two smartest people at school, you two sure are dumb when it comes to your feel-,” Linus said. 

“Can we just drop it?” Cameron interrupted. They did indeed drop it, but what Camille and Linus had said weighed on them throughout the rest of lunch and into the afternoon. Their banter was stiff and eye contact was awkward at best. 

After school let out, all the teachers had a faculty meeting. They sat in the uncomfortable chairs in the library while Principal Baptiste stood at the helm. Maggie wore one of her signature power suits- fitted blazer, matching pencil skirt, and stilettos that could kill a man- her dress an ample metaphor for her personality. She was known throughout the school district for being a hardass, but a hardass that got results. 

“The first order of business is the Homecoming Dance this Friday night. The decorating committee is led by the pep squad and their faculty advisor, but we need more volunteers for chaperoning the dance itself.” Maggie paused, waiting for a response. As the silence grew, her arched eyebrow inched higher. 

“Kirsten just said that she would do it,” Camille called from the back of the library.

“Excellent Ms. Clark,” Maggie said. She clearly didn’t care  _ who _ volunteered  _ whom _ , just that chaperones were assigned. 

“But I didn’t-” Kirsten started. 

“Just a couple more names should do it,” Maggie talked over her.

“Cameron and I will chaperone!” Linus enthused. 

“Perfect. Moving on,” Maggie said, not even allowing Cameron to protest either. 

 

So there Kirsten stood, hugging the walls of the gymnasium decorated with several hundred twinkling lights, wearing one of Camille’s short dresses, and a diamond necklace hung around her neck, drawing attention to her pronounced collarbones. As a chaperone, her main job was to make sure none of the teenagers started making out or hooking up. She grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with Goldfish crackers, mildly zoning out on the students’ activities. For the most part, chaperoning had been pretty boring. Until Cameron walked in, dressed in a perfectly fitted tux.

He spotted Kirsten and headed her way. “Hey.”

“You’re late.”

“Got stuck in traffic. But I brought you something to say ‘Sorry.’” Cameron pulled a corsage from behind his back. He glanced up at her, eyebrows raised as if asking for permission. She stuck her arm out in response, and he slid the flowers onto her wrist. He had a matching boutonniere pinned to his lapel. Cameron moved to stand beside Kirsten. They stood motionless and quiet, the few inches between them simultaneously not nearly enough and far too many. 

The upbeat music faded out, and a slow song came on. Single students stood awkwardly on the sides, while couples hugged each other closer. Cameron reached out his palm. “May I have this dance, Ms. Clark?”

“Of course you may, Mr. Goodkin,” Kirsten said, placing her hand in his. Cameron lead her towards the dance floor, releasing her hand when they got there in favor of her waist. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders, and they swayed slowly with the music. They heard several poorly concealed “oohs” from their students, but chose to ignore them and continued dancing. As the song progressed, they got increasingly closer, doing the very thing they were supposed to prevent the students from doing. They held each other’s gaze for the duration of the dance, communicating more with their eyes than could possibly be said with words. 

_ I’d die for you. _

_ I know. I’d die without you. _

_ I know. I love you. _

_ I know.  _

They startled apart when Principal Baptiste approached and called out, “Ms. Clark, Mr. Goodkin, follow me.” She turned around and power walked out of the gym in her stiletto pumps. Kirsten and Cameron shared wide-eyed glances before scrambling to follow Maggie through the throng of students. 

“We have a student unconscious and throwing up in the bathroom. I need you two to stay with her until the ambulance arrives and then accompany her to the hospital. Her family will meet you there,” Maggie said as soon as they reached the relative quiet of the hallway. “We’ll discuss the two of you later,” she continued.

They nodded before rushing into the bathroom to take over from Coach Fisher who looked like he was about to throw up himself. Kirsten wet a paper towel and pressed it onto the girl’s forehead while Cameron sat beside the girl, keeping her rolled over on her side. They cleaned the girl up as best they could, and they wiped up the vomit nearest her face. 

The paramedics arrived and took over the girl’s care, strapping her onto a stretcher and escorting her to the ambulance. Cameron and Kirsten followed close behind. They jumped in Cameron’s Volvo and followed the ambulance all the way to the hospital. They rushed into the lobby and found the girl’s family in the waiting room. One of the medics was talking to them. 

“We’re running a toxicology report to see if she may have overdosed or gotten alcohol poisoning. Does she have a history of seizures or using illicit drugs or alcohol?” The medic said.

“No. Not that we’re aware of,” the mousy mother said.

The medic turned to Cameron and Kirsten and said, “Thank you for your help at the school.”

“No problem,” Cameron said. 

“Thank you,” the father echoed, voice gruff and short as he held back the tears welling up in his already reddened eyes. 

“You’re welcome,” Kirsten said. 

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Cameron said before leading Kirsten back to the car. 

Once they were seated, Kirsten said quietly, “Thank you for taking me to my first school dance.”

“Oh, no. The night’s not over yet. It’s not homecoming without going out for awful breakfast food afterwards. You ever been to Al’s Waffle Palace?” Cameron asked.

“No, but I feel like that’s about to change whether I want it to or not,” Kirsten joked.

“That settles that, Cupcake. Prepare yourself for a truly unique, though not necessarily good, experience.” With that, Cameron pulled out of the parking lot. 

 

Twenty minutes later, Kirsten and Cameron sat opposite each other in a booth at Al’s Waffle Palace, the harsh fluorescent lighting as far from romantic as one could get. The cook leaned over the counter and asked, “What’ll you have?”

Kirsten flipped the laminated menu over, skimming the options. Cameron placed his hand on the menu, lowering it back to the table, and then he said, “We’ll have the breakfast special.”

“Coming right up,” the server said.

“I don’t think anything here is ‘special,’’ Kirsten whispered across the table. 

“Have a little faith in the magic of copious amounts of grease and butter,” Cameron said in mock-seriousness. 

Minutes later, the server delivered two plates of fluffy waffles, greasy bacon, and scrambled eggs with a bottle of maple syrup and assorted jellies and jams. 

“This is it?” Kirsten asked in disbelief.

“Go ahead. Take a bite,” Cameron watched expectantly. Kirsten carefully cut a small slice of waffle and took a bite. 

“Mmmmm,” she hummed happily.

“Now try it with a bite of egg and bacon all dipped in syrup,” Cameron said, demonstrating the stack with his own syrupy fork. Kirsten follows suit and hums once again.

“I thought you were really into fancy food,” Kirsten said.

“As a self-proclaimed foodie, I choose not to let any prejudice towards a meager establishment such as this prohibit me from enjoying something so delicious just because it is also something horrible,” Cameron said with a smirk.

“How progressive of you,” Kirsten said, her tone serious but her eyes glimmering. 

 

After they finished their midnight breakfast, Cameron drove Kirsten back to her house. After he pulled into the driveway, Kirsten said, “Thanks again for tonight. It was really fun.” 

“You’re welcome,” Cameron said softly. 

“I’ll see you Monday,” Kirsten said as she opened the door and stepped out of the car. 

“See you Monday,” Cameron echoed. 

Kirsten turned and walked up to her front stoop, stopping to fish out her house key. Cameron grabbed her by the arm, spun her around, and kissed her. It was deep and soft and  _ perfect _ . His hands moved to cup her face, and Kirsten wrapped her arms around him, fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. It was over too quickly even though it had left Kirsten breathless, and from the looks of things, Cameron as well. 

“You needed the perfect ending to your homecoming night,” Cameron finally said, cheeks still flushed from the kiss. Cameron turned and walked back to his car and drove away, leaving Kirsten frozen in front of her door for a minute before she finally found movement again. 

As soon as she stepped into the living room, Camille pounced on her. “Weren’t you supposed to be the ones preventing people from hooking up tonight? Not actually hooking up?”

“We did not hook up. It was just a kiss,” Kirsten said.

“That was no mere kiss. Plus, the dance ended hours ago,” Camille argued.

“Which is why I’m exhausted and going to bed now,” Kirsten said, ignoring Camille’s prodding. 

 

Monday morning came, and Maggie called Kirsten and Cameron into her office as promised. They hadn’t seen each other since  _ the kiss _ , and they hadn’t talked either. 

“Hi,” Cameron said, not quite meeting Kirsten’s gaze. 

“Hi,” Kirsten echoed, bumping shoulders with him. This caused him to finally look up. Kirsten gave him a small smile before saying, “How much trouble do you think we’re in?”

“Knowing Maggie? Enough,” Cameron answered. 

They stepped into Maggie’s office and sat down opposite her.  

She immediately jumped in saying, “T ook you long enough. I bet you’d be together by the end of the first quarter. So now I’m out fifty bucks. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Sorry?” Cameron asked.

“No, not sorry. This whole bet was ridiculous.” Kirsten hedged.

“In all seriousness, though, I expect complete professionalism between 8am and 3pm. And I need you to promise me that if things don’t work out between you that it won’t adversely affect your jobs in any way,” Maggie said.

“Of course.” Kirsten nodded.

“You got it!” Cameron said a little too enthusiastically. 

“Dismissed,” Maggie said. She picked the papers up that she’d been reading before Kirsten and Cameron stepped into her office. But she still had a faint smile on her face as they scurried out of her office. 

Kirsten glanced at the clock on the wall in the front hallway.  _ 7:47.  _ She grabbed Cameron’s hand and pulled him towards the Science hallway.

Cameron glanced down at their intertwined hands. 

“What are you doing?”

“Come on, we have thirteen minutes. These are classic tropes we’re living out right now.  _ Hot for teacher _ ?”

“Oh my god,” Cameron said before pressing Kirsten up against the nearest set of lockers and kissing her. 

He pulled back to catch is breath, and Kirsten whispered, "You're like coming home."

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!!


End file.
